Liturgy of the Hours
by Guilty Bird
Summary: For as long as he can remember, a voice has always been whispering in his mind, twisting him...changing him... [Psychopath!Naruto]
1. Nocturns I

**Chapter One: Nocturns I**

* * *

_Indeterminate time, realm of the gods_

The Almighty God, Creator of All Things, He Who Is, Supreme Being and Principal Object of Faith, Greatest Conceivable Existent...He goes by many names. He does not care what the mortal beings He once created on a whim call Him; their names for Him come and go with the passing of time – a most tedious dimension that He rarely touches, due to its fragility – but if He had to pick one, He supposes He would go by 'Kishimoto' or even 'Kishi.' Yes, it is a name both pleasing to the ear and yet ringing of dignity and wisdom; if He had a physical body, He would be nodding in approval right now.

Currently, He is looking down at the world, mulling over the newest turn of events. A tiny residue power of creation that He once carelessly left behind has influenced the mortals in ways even He didn't expect. The power, which manifested itself as a tree, bore fruit and has led to mortals being born with spiritual energy. Over time, they have learned to harness that energy and with it, perform abilities that He had never intended them to have. They are even able to gain some measure of control over his residue of power, splitting it into more manageable pieces that they then use to wage war amongst one other.

He does not mind however. Although the mortals now have greater influence over the planet than He had planned, they have managed to keep each other in check and have yet to completely annihilate each other. And more importantly, their constant struggle for power and the ideals they have developed as a survival method serve to entertain Him; He supposes He could one day compose a fictional series based on their history and submit it to the Gods' Board of Literature. Since their history has been largely animistic, He supposes the nature deities of Japan would approve. However, they do tend to like their mortal women well-endowed, so He pauses to mutate the oppai genes – the ones that control the size of mammary glands – of one of the recently born mortal children, and...

There: disproportionally big and impervious to the effects of gravitational pull. Perfect. If He had a corporeal pair of hands, He would be patting Himself on the back now.

Suddenly, He realizes that He is being called forth by a mortal. The mortal is using one of the techniques they have developed that allows them to call on His spirit. For Him, it is a minor tugging sensation that He answers on a whim; for the mortals, it is always a technique of last resort. They call it the Reaper Death Seal, and indeed, His influence causes distortions in the physical plane, making it look as if He is devouring their soul.

Dutifully, He materializes behind the summoning mortal (taking the form of His grandmother, bless her Spirit), and is surprised to see that the mortal is sealing away half of a tailed-beast – a sliver of the residue of power that He left. The remaining half, the poor thing, is being trapped against its will inside an infant mortal.

He is the Supreme Being and Creator of All Things, but He is also merciful. The residue of power, while no longer a part of Him, was once a part of Him, and He recognizes, in a detached sort of way, the agony it must be going through. Though He cannot free the beast without directly interfering – an endeavor He strives to avoid at all times – He _can_ make its cage a bit more...tolerable.

Before He leaves the physical plane, He sends a trickle of power towards the bars of the cage, widening the distance between them. That should give it a bit more breathing space. With a nod of His temporarily materialized head, He notes the beast cautiously sticking its head out of the cage, unable to believe its luck.

_"Behave now_," He says sternly, before returning to His distant realm.

* * *

_Six years later, mortal realm_

Sitting behind his desk, Hiruzen Sarutobi sighs, wiping sweat from his lined brow.

It has been a long day at work for him – though as the Hokage, when is it never one? But for once, the biggest issue is not an external conflict over territory and borderlines. The problem lies within: ever since the attack of the Kyūbi on the village, there have been growing tensions between the Uchiha clan and the governing body of Konoha. Though nothing concrete ties the Uchiha clan to the incident, people have been pointing out that it is their kekkei genkai, the Sharingan, which has the power to control the Kyūbi. And thus, slowly but surely, they have been increasingly secluded from the rest of the village through a medium of prejudice and deep-rooted suspicion.

Recently, one of their most promising progeny – a newly-minted chūnin named Itachi – has joined the ranks of the ANBU. Hiruzen feels uneasy about the appointment, knowing that the Uchiha clan will take advantage of this to gather information on the village. But the boy seems different from the rest of the clan: more loyal to the village, more peace-seeking, and above all...more pliable. But regardless, Hiruzen has made it a point to always keep an eye on the Uchiha boy's movements and actions.

His train of thought cuts off and he stiffens as he senses one of his ANBU approaching from the window, and he turns around expectantly.

"Hokage-sama!" Owl appears before him; though his face is masked, his fretfully moving fingers betray his anxiety. "There has been an incident within the village."

"Report," says Hiruzen with a frown, as his thoughts flash back to his most recent ramblings. It is far too early for any of his fears concerning the Uchiha to have come true. So what else could it be...?

But the ANBU's reply makes him freeze.

"The jinchūriki Naruto Uzumaki has killed a civilian and left Konoha. Dog's unit has currently cornered it in a cave in the forest west of the village, but are currently on standby, awaiting further instructions. Your orders, sir?"

* * *

"Update from Hokage-sama," Owl leaps down silently to the cave's entrance where Dog and the others are waiting. "We are to apprehend the jinchūriki without hurting it, render it unconscious, and return it to the village where it is to be kept under strict supervision until further orders are relayed."

The waiting ANBU nod at their comrade and turn towards their captain, a silver-haired ninja with a Dog mask. For a second he hesitates, surprising his subordinates who are used to his near-instantaneous but reliable orders. But when he speaks, there is no emotion in his voice.

Following his directions, they file into the narrow cave quickly but cautiously. Almost as soon as they enter the passageway, it makes a sharp turn inwards, and the outside light fades away.

The cave is deeper than it looked from outside, and for a while, they traverse the passageway in tense silence. All of them being the highly trained ninjas that they are, none of their footsteps make any sound, and in the quiet of the overwhelming darkness, they almost feel as if they are slowly coming apart at the seams, becoming nothing...

They are all relieved when they become aware of a distant, strangely high-pitched sound that resounds through the dark air. It grounds them and they pause, but urged onwards by their captain, they continue walking farther inwards. Growing closer and closer to the source, the sound, like a surging wave, becomes a relentless, piercing sound that sets their teeth on edge. As they edge even closer, at a certain point, they suddenly realize it is the sound of a child's unrestrained laughter, flowing maniacally without pause.

But just as they take another step forward, the laughter suddenly comes to an abrupt stop. As the last echoes of laughter fade from the cave, for a moment, there is heavy, oppressive silence. And then –

"I know you're there," a child's voice calls out in a sing-song tone.

* * *

**A/N: **This is a semi-crack short series about an insane/psychopath Naruto. Naruto will not be likable; on the contrary, he'll be despicable.

There will be quite dark and mature themes/content in future chapters. Consider yourself warned.

**Disclaimer: **The cover image for this fiction is from the deviant 'marxedp.'


	2. Nocturns II

**Chapter Two: Nocturns II**

* * *

For as long as he can remember, a voice has always been whispering in his mind.

At first, the Boy is only aware of the Voice's presence, but he does not understand it. It is a constant stream of noise; its volume and tone tends to vary by the day, but it is relentless. Sometimes the sounds it makes is more coherent, and gradually over the years, he can even understand what it is saying. But other times, he is sure that it is not actually saying anything intelligible. It is just whispering madly, growling in frenzied frustration.

The Voice is different from the other voices he has heard in his short lifetime. The Voice is deep, guttural and raw. Sometimes, when it is throwing a fit of violent rage in his head, he can't fall asleep. Only when it retreats to its usual muttering can he fall into relieved oblivion.

The first time there is a break in its noise-making is the moment it realizes that the Boy can hear what it is saying. It has been mumbling one of its most repeated phrases – about tearing apart its cage and killing every single being in the village – when, while playing in the sandbox at the playground, he absently asks it what 'killing' means.

There is a moment of silence, its shock causing a break in its years-long rant. The Boy also freezes, his eyes widening. His hands jump to his head, and he falls down to his knees on top of the sandcastle he has been building, crushing it. It is the first time he has heard silence, and he does not know how to cope with it. It overwhelms him.

_"You can hear me?"_ it finally asks curiously. Relieved that the Voice is back, the Boy nods frantically.

_"Yes. But I don't understand everything."_

_"How old are you now?"_ it asks.

_"Almost three_,_"_ says the Boy, holding up four fingers.

_"That's four fingers, idiot boy,"_ says the Voice, but it does not sound angry for once. There is a pleased quality to his tone instead, and it puzzles the Boy. The Voice is always angry, frustrated, violent, wrathful – never _pleased_. _Pleased _is when one of the children at the playground build a sandcastle and their parent pats them on their head. _Angry_ is when a parent notices him standing alone by the swings. The Boy has never heard anyone talking to him in a _pleased _way and it puzzles him.

_"What does killing mean?"_ the Boy repeats his question, growing anxious as the Voice remains in silent contemplation.

_"It means stopping people from doing things you don't like_," the Voice answers him. "_Or getting rid of things you don't like."_

_"You don't like the people here?"_ asks the Boy, picking up a plastic bucket to remake his castle.

_"No. Do you?"_ the Voice asks tentatively. The Boy pauses, stopping to think. Nobody has ever asked him what he likes or dislikes – or anything much about himself. There is an old man who comes by sometimes to check on him, but he never stays long and he rarely talks to the Boy. He makes sure that the Boy is eating and sleeping properly, and then he goes. The Boy thinks the old man must be very important, because his caretaker always bows to him and calls him 'Hokage-sama.'

_"I don't know_,_"_ says the Boy truthfully. Sometimes people are not very nice to him, but most of the time they just ignore him.

_"You shouldn't_._"_

_"Why not?__"_ the Boy asks.

_"They all hate you. Why like people who hate you?"_ it hisses. Somehow, the Voice's presence feels even closer to him than usual, almost as if it is whispering into his ear. The Boy shivers.

_"How do you know they hate me?"_

_"I see, feel, and hear everything you do. I am much older than you so I can tell from experience that they hate you," _it informs him. The Boy's eyes widen.

_"Are you older than the old man who visits me?"_ he asks earnestly.

The Voice snorts derisively.

_"I was old when that old man's grandfather was still wearing diapers."_

The Boy's mouth drops open in awe.

_"Why are you in my mind then?"_ he asks.

_"I was trapped in here against my will,"_ it snarls, a hint of its previous rage flaring again.

_"Oh…then do you hate me too?"_ The Boy sits down on the overturned bucket and begins to rock back and forth, looking down at his feet.

_"Why hate the jail over the jailor?"_ the Voice says carefully. There is a strange gleeful quality to its tone that the Boy does not understand. _"Besides, you seem to be a reasonable kid. Most children are disgusting and intolerable, but you're different from them."_

The Boy turns pink with pleasure, although he does not know what 'reasonable' and 'intolerable' mean.

_"You called me an idiot boy,"_ he points out.

_"All children are idiots,"_ says the Voice quickly. _"But there are a few who can be taught to grow out of that. A child like you, for instance."_

_"Will you teach me?"_ the Boy asks hopefully.

_"If you want,"_ the Voice says. The Boy quickly nods. He likes the Voice. He thought it was scary at first, but it says nice things to him and makes him feel warm inside.

And so, he begins to listen to the Voice. The Voice stops mumbling nonsensical things, and begins to point out things that had escaped the Boy's notice before. Sometimes they are interesting things, like when he tells them that the dew on the leaves in the morning comes from water in the soil that is evaporating. But sometimes they are scary things, like when he tells him that there are almost always several masked people who are following him. They never interfere with him or make their presence known, but they are apparently reporting back to the old man. It scares the Boy at first, but because nothing happens, he eventually forgets about it.

Whenever the Boy is quick on the uptake or points something out without the Voice having to tell him, it praises him.

_"Good boy,"_ it croons to him.

Eager to earn its approval, the Boy soon stops talking to other people. It never likes it when the Boy asks someone else a question, so the Boy takes to asking it instead, even when it doesn't know the answer. But that is a very rare event indeed, as it seems to know everything, ranging from why birds fly in V-formation when they migrate (and why do they migrate?) to what the grunting man and woman in the bushes besides the nightclub are doing.

_"They are copulating. No doubt the female will eventually pop out another one of your vermin kind,"_ it sneers.

"'_Copulating'?" _asks the Boy, watching in fascination with his eyes wide open. _"Is that when the man sticks his pee-pee inside the woman? Is it fun?"_

Outside of when he is building sandcastles, the Boy gets bored easily. That is why he keeps asking the Voice questions, if nothing but to keep himself occupied.

_"Apparently,"_ it says. _"You will learn, in due time."_

But there are a few times when even the Voice does not know how to answer the Boy's questions.

_"No, I don't know how ramen is made,"_ it says hesitantly. _"Although I suppose they boil the noodles – what? No, I don't know how the noodles are made."_

Once, the old man comes by his apartment and asks the Boy to come to him. Surprised, the Boy obediently drops his toys and stands shyly before the man. The Voice whispers to him to be wary of the old man.

"Naruto," says the old man. The caretaker is standing beside him with her arms crossed across her chest and her lips pursed disapprovingly. "Misato is telling me that you don't respond to her anymore. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

_"Don't tell him about me,"_ the Voice hisses warningly. _"He'll try and stop me from talking to you. He doesn't want you to have friends."_

_"Are you my friend?"_ the Boy asks, his eyes widening.

_"What else would I be, idiot boy?"_ it snarls.

"She doesn't clean and she forgets to give me food. Sometimes she locks me in my room and brings her boyfriend and I can hear them do funny things to each other," says the Boy.

The caretaker turns bright red and begins to sputter as the old man looks at her reproachfully.

"I see," says the old man.

The next day, another woman is at his apartment. She is older than his previous caretaker, and all she does is prepare him food and clean his room, before leaving. This suits the Boy just fine.

Several years pass. The Voice is his teacher, but it never forces the Boy to do anything. It is rough but patient in its ways; it has a wealth of information and experience that awes the Boy. If there is one thing that it is insistent upon, it is that the Boy never tells anyone else that the Voice is there. And because the Boy does not want the Voice to be taken away, he is careful about it.

One day, the Boy is on his way back to his apartment from the playground. With some tips from the Voice, his sandcastle-building skills have dramatically increased, and they tower above him by the time he is finished – though the other children usually destroy it as soon as he is done.

Swinging his worn-down plastic bucket and shovel in his hands, the Boy chats with the Voice. Slipping into a shortcut through a narrow alley, he accidentally bumps into a passing man, but doesn't initially take much note of it – usually most adults shoot him a glare and move away from him.

But this one is different.

"What the fuck?" the man snarls. Stunned that he is being addressed, the Boy comes to a halt. The man is tall, towering over the Boy, and he wears a bandana on his head. His face is currently twisted into one of extreme dislike. "You think you can just bump into me and run away without even apologizing?"

"Sorry," the Boy mumbles, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. He tries to slip away but the man's hand lashes out, grabbing him by the arm.

"Well it's too late for that now, isn't it?" The man bends over, shoving his face into the Boy's, staring at him eye-to-eye. "Get on your knees and tell me you'll never do that again."

The Boy trembles, scuffing the heel of his shoe against the ground. He does not feel good. He does not know why the man is being so unpleasant. He wishes the man would just ignore him and leave him alone, like everyone else, so he can keep talking to the Voice. He does not want to get on his knees.

_"What should I do?"_ he asks the Voice desperately.

"Well?!" The man shakes the Boy.

_"What do we do to people we hate?"_ it whispers.

So he takes his shovel and stabs the man's eye with its tip. With a squelching sound, blood spurts out, hitting the Boy in the face.

With a howl of agony, the man immediately rears backwards, clawing at his face with his hands.

"You little piece of shit!" The man screams. As blood continues to stream down the side of his face, he lunges at the Boy. But the Boy dodges his flailing hands, and as the man clumsily falls forward, he twists his hand and slams the shovel's point into his other eye, which bursts open in a mess of clear and red liquid.

His screaming intensifies, hurting the Boy's eardrums, and the man stays on the ground. Convulsing, body parts flailing, his hands scrape worthlessly around his face.

The Boy does not like the screaming, so he steps down hard on the man's throat. The man makes a choking sound, his face purple, and begins to thrash around. An arm lashes out and slams into his chest, and the Boy cries out in surprise, falling backwards.

Clambering back to his feet, he looks around for something hard. In the dark alley, all he can find is an abandoned glass bottle, so he picks it up with both hands. Without hesitation, he slams it down on the man's head. With a loud breaking sound, the bottle shatters into pieces, leaving him holding only a jagged bottleneck. The Boy stabs that into the man's throat several times, and finally, with a last gurgle, the man's screams fade away and his body stills. Blood streams out from the ragged punctures in his throat, and red bubbles foam out from between the man's lips.

The Boy smiles.

_"You're right,"_ he says. _"That made the bad feeling go away."_

_"They're coming,"_ the Voice finally whispers. _"Run."_

_"Where?"_ the Boy asks, his smile fading. His eyes grow wide.

_"Outside."_

_"How?"_

The Voice hesitates.

_"If you'll let me control your body, I can do it for you."_

The Boy doesn't hesitate.

_"Okay."_

There is a curious sensation in his head, as if something within his brain is stretching and expanding. His left eye begins to tickle, and he feels a strange force beginning to run through his veins.

Suddenly, his left hand shoots up in front of his face even though he hadn't moved it. It flexes experimentally, and then without any alarm, his leg muscles tense up and then he is shooting high up into the air, the wind rushing furiously down at him.

The Boy lands on the tiled roof of an apartment complex. For a moment, he stares in awe at the sight of the sprawling village before him, but before he can really take it in, his body is already moving.

_"You see?"_ The Voice turns his head around, and the Boy sees several masked figures in the air behind him, chasing him. _"Those are the people who've been following you."_

But with the Voice controlling his body, even they can't keep up with the Boy. For the first time in his life, the Boy leaves the village's walls, and after traversing the forest for a while, they find a cavernous opening and go deep inside.

When the Voice gives the Boy his body back, he finds himself crumpling to the ground. His body is not used to such strenuous movement, and he is tired like he's never been before.

Lying down on the cold rock in the darkness, he can't see anything, and it feels almost as if the Voice is right there beside him, instead of being in his head.

___"You were right_," he says, panting, to the Voice. _"They hate me. But I stopped that man from hating me."_

_"You see? Just listen to what I say_,_"_ says the Voice smugly. "_But save killing for the people you really hate. If you kill people too easily, more bad people will come to try and stop you. They don't want you to be happy."_

_"Can't I just kill them too?"_ the Boy asks.

_"In time,"_ says the Voice. _"You're smart, so you have to take your time. You have to outsmart them. Tell them that the man was being mean to you and that you didn't know what you were doing. They'll believe you. It's all a game, you see? You can't let them know what you're doing. You like games, don't you?"_

_"Yeah,"_ says the Boy, his face splitting into a smile. _"__The man was shouting at me. And then he was screaming. And then he was quiet. I liked that."_

_"Right?"_ The Voice makes a strange repetitive rasping noise. The Boy sits up at the sound, surprised.

_"I've never heard you laugh before,"_ says the Boy.

_"It's been a while since I've had this much fun,"_ it says.

_"This is having fun?"_ The Boy cocks his head.

_"Yes,"_ it says simply.

The Boy has never laughed before.

Experimentally, he opens his mouth. Urging sound up from his lungs, he tries to mimic the Voice's laugh. His voice is much higher-pitched and not as raw, and at first, it sounds strange and unnatural. But as he thinks back to the feeling he felt looking down at the man who'd been mean to him, a more natural sound starts to bubble up to his lips.

And then he is laughing, and laughing, and laughing. It won't stop.

_"That was fun!"_

_Hahaha…_

_"I can stop people from doing things I don't like!"_

_HAHAHAHA…._

_"And if I'm careful, no one will stop me!_

…_oh, I can't wait to do that again!"_

_HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA –_

* * *

**A/N:** loooooooool

So mobile-fanfiction doesn't support italicized fonts. This story uses a lot of italics so you should probably read it in on a browser format.


	3. Lauds

**Chapter Three: Lauds**

* * *

When the Boy first comes to, he finds himself held down securely by metal straps on a cold table. He is in a large, dimly-lit windowless room. His eyes immediately snap to the sole door on the far side of the room. But between him and the exit, there is a line of masked ANBU guards. And besides the guards, a man with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail looks impassively down at him.

He resists the temptation to ask the Voice on the situation. The Voice has told him that to escape detection, it has to return to the mental cage inside the Boy, and from there, it cannot talk to him. For now, it is up to the Boy to pull them through.

"What's going on?" he asks, making his voice quiver just slightly at the last syllable. But nobody answers him. The Boy focuses on making himself look as harmless and helpless as possible – an easy feat, considering how small he is. He notices a silver-haired ANBU, standing just behind the blonde man, shift uneasily.

Several minutes later, the old man arrives with an entourage of even more ANBU soldiers. His face is grim, and as he looks down at the Boy, none of the usual lenience is there. The blonde man bows his head in greeting.

"Report," the old man commands the blonde man.

"The boy was assaulted by Sato in a narrow alley, and seems to have reacted in self-defense," the man says curtly. "Then, realizing that he was being chased, he fled the village."

"The Kyūbi...?" murmurs the old man.

"I have found no memories of him interacting with the Kyūbi," the man reports. The old man's shoulders slump almost imperceptibly. "However..."

"However?"

"There are multiple inexplicable blanks in his memory that would be concurrent with a possible body takeover situation. If there are any weaknesses in the seal that was used to bind the Kyūbi within the boy..."

"None," the old man says, shaking his head. "I have checked the seal over myself, multiple times. It was done flawlessly. The seal is set to weaken naturally over time, but without the key, the Kyūbi cannot leave its cage."

"While it was out of self-defense, the memory shows that the boy was aware of his actions and derived pleasure from the incident. That kind of bloodlust is not necessarily uncommon amongst shinobi of course, but for a boy his age..." The blonde man turns to look at the Boy. "The Kyūbi's presence could be causing some mental instability."

"Naruto," the old man says quietly. With a weary expression on his face, he looks straight into the Boy's eyes. "Do you understand what you have done?"

Although the Boy may have once felt a certain debt to the old man for taking care of him, the Boy only cares about himself and the Voice now, so the lies surge to his tongue with ease.

"Was what I did wrong?" the Boy asks, his eyes widened slightly in a show of surprise. The Voice has long since taught the Boy the methods of deception. "He was hurting me. I didn't think I would k-kill him. I...I'm sorry."

The Boy is not sure if they believe him, but they stop probing his memories after that.

For a long while, the Boy is locked away from the rest of the village. During the time he is detained, he is held in an secret underground facility. He is released from his bindings but is kept in a sparsely decorated cell, with at least five ANBU on standing duty at all times. Several times a day, some white-coated doctors come to visit him and ask him questions about silly things.

"What does this shape look like, Naruto?" they ask him, holding up a white card with an inkblot on it.

_A mask._

"A butterfly," the Boy says.

"And this?"

_Two people with their head and legs torn off._

"Two people holding hands," he says.

"Very good, Naruto."

The entire time, the Boy cannot talk to the Voice, and against his will, he grows restless. He misses the Voice's company.

"How did you escape the village, Naruto?" a bespectacled doctor asks him, holding his hand gently as if comforting him. He thinks the Boy does not know that his finger is positioned directly over the Boy's wrist's pulse.

"I don't know. I was scared, and my body filled up with ad...adren...adrenuh..."

"Adrenaline," the doctor supplies helpfully. He then makes a slight gesture towards the nurse standing next to him, who scribbles something down furiously on her notepad.

"Yeah that," says the Boy, nodding.

By the time the Boy is released, all the tree leaves in the village have fallen, gathering in clumps of orange and red along the streets. He is escorted to his new home, which is located at the far reaches of the village – far away from the cluster of apartment complexes where most of the civilians live. And now, there are always ANBU watching him from a distance. Initially, they do not even try to hide themselves; they lie in wait on top of his roof, their pale white masks glinting sinisterly under the moonlight. Gradually, as if to induce him into a false sense of lull, they begin disappearing but the Boy knows they are always there, watching.

One day, a few weeks after he has been released, the Voice returns. The Boy is listlessly looking out the window when the unsettling silence is finally broken.

"_We did it," _whispers the Voice. At the sudden sound, the Boy's heart jumps to his throat, but without changing his expression, the Boy allows his body only an excited twitch of his fingers.

"_How did I do?" _he asks eagerly.

"_You did as best as could be expected. Well done."_

The Boy looks away from the window as his face flushes in pleasure. Suddenly, he remembers something he has been wondering for a while now.

"_Did you do something when that man was probing my memories?"_

"_I took all memories pertaining to myself with me while I retreated to the seal," _the Voice explains. _"Not even that jutsu can get past the seal without the key."_

"_I didn't like that man. I didn't like any of them," _the Boy decides, narrowing his eyes. His fingers twitch again. _"I want to kill them. Can we kill them?"_

"_Patience," _growls the Voice. The Boy's face falls, and in response, the Voice's tone softens. _"We'll get there eventually. But as you can see, we're not strong enough yet."_

"_How can we get strong?"_

"_Training. I can train you to an extent, but you'll have to go to the Ninja Academy soon."_

"_Will they let me go?" _The Boy sighs.

"_We'll have to be on our best behavior for a while," _the Voice states simply.

But as it turns out, there is no need. The old man eventually visits the Boy again, and tells him that he will be enrolled in the Academy in the newest class.

So, the Boy begins to attend the Ninja Academy. And for the first time in his life, the Boy is no longer bored. For the first time in his life, there is always something new to learn, or something to work on.

Initially, the Academy lessons consist of learning how to read and write, basic math, and history. The Boy already knew how to read and write, and the math bores him – but he is intrigued by the history lessons. More specifically, the brief unit on past torture methods captures his attention. Whereas his classmates are all cringing in their seats, he is at perfect attention, his ears perked to memorize every last detail. The practice of prolonging pain to extract what you want from your victim seems a most rational idea to him.

After several months, the Academy curriculum finally turn to more practical lessons. To all of these, the Boy begins to apply what he has learned.

During a field trip outside the village walls in which they learn about setting traps and covering one's tracks, the Boy makes modifications to the basic snare trap that they are required to build. On top of the first noose, he adds a secondary noose that is released when the first noose is triggered; it will lash onto the victim's wrist. Theoretically, the momentum of the caught victim flying up will counter the secondary noose holding the victim down, and if the tree and wire are strong enough, the force should be enough to rip the victim in two. Even better, if he can somehow control the length of the wire while the victim is caught in the air, he can _slowly _rip the victim in two. The Boy unfortunately is not able to test it out on a human being, so he makes do with the entrails of several unfortunate wild rabbits.

The weapon-handling unit, he takes to with relish. After all, kunai and shuriken are much more practical tools than a plastic sand shovel for gouging out someone's eyes. After a lesson on human anatomy, the Boy begins to keep a mental list ordering which body parts will cause the most amount of pain but the least amount of blood loss.

The taijutsu unit on the other hand – at least at first, the Boy does not like it very much. Many of the children in his class are clan children, and have been trained by their families before enrolling in the Academy. They can go smoothly through a sequence of stances in the blink of an eye; compared to them, he is an awkward duck trying to learn how to fly.

The Boy does not like to lose.

When a brown-haired girl crows in victory after a bout, as the Boy lies face down in the dust, he makes up his mind to train harder.

But before that, he 'accidentally' fumbles a kunai throw, sending it slashing straight through two vital nerves in the girl's leg. The girl is carted away to the Hospital, a crying and bleeding mess, and doesn't return to the Academy until two weeks later, by the time which she has fallen behind the rest of the class.

The Boy does not spare girls.

As the years pass by and his class nears graduation, they begin to learn jutsu, and a whole new world is opened to the Boy. The basic jutsu they learn – Bunshin no Jutsu _(Clone technique) _and Henge no Jutsu _(Transformation technique) _– are interesting as possible escape methods, but the Boy is already salivating at the thought of the more advanced jutsu that await him. The Voice tells him there is a jutsu that lets you gather up chakra into a tight ball in your hand, which you can then use to slam into people's bodies and rupture their organs from the outside. There is a jutsu that lets you rip off people's skins and wear them over your own, a jutsu that you can use to summon a mist of acid that lets you melt a victim's flesh off their bones...the possibilities are endless.

Despite his fantasies, the Boy keeps his word and does not kill anybody. After all, it is unlikely that he even could have. The number of ANBU watching him have dwindled over the years, but there is still always at least one within a reachable distance.

By the time the final exam and graduation time finally arrive, it has been nine years since he met the Voice. He performs excellently in the exam, but because he has not always performed to expectation in separate units ("The test was to make a standard snare trap. This is not a standard snare trap"), he fully expects to graduate somewhere in the middle-rank of the class and get put on an obscure team with a pair of talentless nobodies. This is fine with him, as the Boy has little interest in being outshone by his own teammates.

To the Boy's shock, he is told that as a special ward of the old man, his graduation is to be put on-hold until the old man gives his permission.

The old man does not given permission.

"_But I didn't kill anybody!" _the Boy howls to the Voice, furiously stabbing a fat pigeon he found roosting outside his window that morning. Tufts of red and grey feathers fly everywhere.

"_It's not you. He's up to something," _the Voice grumbles sympathetically.

Sure enough, later that evening, one of the other instructors of the Academy approaches the Boy and tells him that if he is able to steal a special scroll of forbidden ninjutsu from the old man, he will be given permission to graduate.

The Boy does not believe this for a second, but the idea of a scroll of forbidden ninjutsu intrigues him enough to go after it. Entering the Hokage Residence, he skulks along the sides of the walls. Oddly enough, the premises are largely vacated and none of the watching ANBU stop him, telling the Boy that they are testing him in some way.

With a shrug, he snatches the big scroll from the storage and heads to the forest outside the village. Once he finds a suitable clearing, he settles down comfortably and begins to read.

The first jutsu is one called the Tajū Kage Bunshin no Jutsu _(Multiple Shadow Clone technique) _which sounds interesting, but does not quite achieve the dramatic flesh-melting-off-face effect he is going for. It also seems to consume an ungodly amount of chakra.

Nevertheless, he reads over its theory and its practical application. He is about to move on to the next jutsu when he notices the instructor approaching him.

"Naruto, congratulations," the man says, with a congenial look on his face. "You can graduate now. Just hand over the scroll."

"Sure thing," says the Boy, rolling the scroll up. He tosses the scroll casually to the ground.

His face twisting into an overeager smile, the man steps forward to pick up the scroll.

With a snapping sound and a rustle of a bent sapling, the man flies up into the air, dangling from the noose secured tightly around his leg.

"What the – ?!"

"Oh sorry," says the Boy, looking up in faint surprise. "I forgot I left one of my practice snares here."

"Very funny Naruto...now let me down!" The man tries to sound amused.

"Sure thing," says the Boy, pulling down on a length of wire that is hanging down from the tree. Just as the man notices the other noose secured around his wrist, he lets out a yelp of pain as the strain on his body grows. His yelps turn to howls and soon, with a loud cracking sound, the man's hand breaks.

The man bursts into tears, but fortunately for him, the noose around his wrist slips loose and falls to the ground. The tension on his body relieved, the man's body swings slackly in the air. The Boy makes a disappointed sound, mentally noting that the snare does not work as well on grown humans as it does on animals. Or at least, the wrist is not optimal. He wonders what other body parts he could attach the noose to that will hold better – or alternatively, perhaps he should switch to a barbed wire? That would make the skin tear apart more satisfyingly. But which body part would rip off the easiest?

His eyes begin to trail down the man's torso.

But before he can let his thoughts run for long, he is interrupted as ANBU land silently around him. Several of them cut down the grateful, sobbing man from the tree and take him away. Several others escort the Boy back to his apartment.

The next day, he is told that he has graduated the Academy at the bottom-most rank of his class.

* * *

**A/N: **yeap.


	4. Prime

**Chapter Four: Prime**

* * *

They say that traditionally, to balance the teams, the best and the worst of the graduates are put together on the same team. That is how the Boy, manipulated by the old man into being the 'dead last' of the class, ends up on the same team as the black-haired boy and the pink-haired girl, who both scored among the top in their class. Their teacher is a masked jōnin.

The Boy knows that the old man must have put him on this team on purpose. He passed the old man's previous test with the scroll, but he senses that his placement on this specific team must also be a test. So when the masked jōnin asks them to tell him about themselves, the Boy decides to go with the most laughable answer he can think of.

"My dream is to become the Hokage," he says poker-faced. The pink-haired girl scoffs, but the masked jōnin looks at him appraisingly. The Boy is amused to see just the barest trace of relief flicker in his eyes.

"_Let's see how the old man reacts to that," _he whispers to the Voice, who chuckles in response.

The jōnin tells them that their graduating from the Academy does not automatically make them genin, and that they must pass his test to truly graduate to the next level. At first the Boy wonders if this is the old man's true test for him, but the jōnin's 'test' is half-hearted, and they easily pass it within the hour. Thus, the Boy reasons that the specific team he was placed on is relevant to the old man's plans for him. He does not know much about either of his new teammates despite having been in the same class, so he begins to watch them closely.

The black-haired boy does not talk much. There are always a flock of girls surrounding him and trying to get his attention, but he does not pay them much mind. His facial expressions do not change much either; he always seems to be looking at something far off in the distance. The Boy vaguely remembers that several years ago, the entire village was in an uproar because most of the members of the black-haired boy's clan were killed.

"What's that you're reading?" the Boy asks. In a flash, the black-haired boy immediately puts the book away, but not before the Boy sees the title – 'Vengeance: The Ultimate Path to Power and Retribution.'

"Mind your own business," the other boy says coldly and slinks away.

The pink-haired girl is much easier to read. The Boy noticed her a long time ago when he saw her getting bullied by some of the other children, but she has changed since then. She is more self-concerned now, and is a part of the flock that is constantly pestering the black-haired boy.

"What's that you're reading?" the Boy asks. The pink-haired girl jumps in surprise and turns red. The Boy has just enough time to read the book's title – 'The Roots of Love: Herbs to Change His Heart' – before she slaps him with it. In disbelief, the Boy raises a hand to his stinging cheek.

"You creep, stop sneaking up on people!" she says shrilly before scurrying away.

That night, the Boy has to shackle himself to his bed so that he doesn't go out and ruin years of scheming by murdering her in her sleep.

And then there is the masked jōnin. At first, he does not seem to care about the team much, but the Boy can sense the man's eyes on him whenever his back is turned. The jōnin's primary expression is bored but when the man thinks nobody is watching, his face defaults into a quiet, contemplative expression.

"What's that you're reading?" the Boy asks.

"The answer to the meaning of life." The masked jōnin's fish-eyes do not even leave the page he is reading, and the Boy has to crane his head to read the title – 'Icha Icha Paradise.'

After mulling over his observations, the Boy concludes that for the most part, they seem to be a ragtag group with no ulterior purpose for being put together. But the Voice's reaction to the masked jōnin in particular unnerves the Boy.

"_Don't talk to him any more than necessary,"_ the Voice snarls when they are back in their apartment.

"_I know," _the Boy says. _"You don't like it when I talk to other people."_

"_This man in particular," _the Voice insists gutturally. The Boy pauses, surprised by the note of urgency in the Voice's tone. _"He's dangerous."_

"_Even more than the old man?" _The Boy is naturally intrigued.

"_Yes. Stay away from him."_

Despite the Boy's further prodding, the Voice refuses to elaborate anymore, so that is that.

Now that they are officially of 'genin' rank, the Boy and his team start doing missions. At first, they are given menial missions that irritate the Boy. Some require them to spend the entire day chasing down a domestic animal in the forest. Others require them out under the searing sun to watch over fields of crops and chase away crows. But the Boy suspects that the old man may be testing his patience and is just waiting for him to lose control, so he forces himself to endure. To his aggravation, his new teammates push the limits of his patience as the black-haired boy occasionally messes up a mission by doing things his own way while the pink-haired girl ignores both the masked jōnin and the Boy in favor of following the black-haired boy.

His wrists start showing signs of bruising as shackling himself to his bed becomes a daily occurrence.

But after a few months of grueling endurance, it pays off – they receive their first C-rank mission, which takes them on a low-key bodyguard mission outside of the village walls. Their client is a merchant who is visiting a minor harbor city along the borders of an island country.

After a long week of civilian-pace travel, they arrive at the city. Since they have to accompany the merchant back to their village, they are invited to spend a week at an inn at the merchant's expense. In their free time, the masked jōnin begins to teach them how to control their chakra flow by practicing tree-climbing in the surrounding forest.

To the Boy's annoyance, the exercise is harder than it looked. And even worse, the pink-haired girl is the best among them at it.

"This is pretty easy!" she gloats, looking down at the Boy from a high branch. The Boy rubs the bruise on his head and doesn't say anything.

"It looks like the best at controlling chakra right now is Sakura," the masked jōnin says in a bored voice as he hangs upside down from a branch. "Unlike you two, her control and stamina are quite good. As of now...Sakura is the closest to becoming Hokage, unlike a certain someone..." His eyes rest on the Boy's, before shifting over to the black-haired boy's panting figure. "I guess the Uchiha clan isn't worth much either."

The black-haired boy scowls, and the girl visibly grows agitated at the sight of her crush's dismay.

"Shut up sensei!" She stabs a finger furiously at the jōnin, who ignores her.

After just a day, the girl manages to master tree-climbing so she is allowed to accompany the masked jōnin as he carries out several other minor missions in the city.

Ignoring each other, the two boys continue to direct chakra to their feet and race up the tree, marking their progress with kunai.

"_Why is this so hard?" _the Boy grumbles, after falling down for the thirty-first time that afternoon.

"_Don't get so riled up," _the Voice instructs him. _"Relax and focus on the feeling of contact between the tree and your feet."_

Though the Boy makes progress – matching the other boy's progress – he eventually decides to take a break and relieve his pent-up frustration. Distancing himself from the clearing, he walks briskly through the thick forest. Keeping a keen eye out, he eventually spots clumps of pale fur littered across a pile of flattened grass.

With a smile, he stops. Kneeling down, the Boy reaches out and brushes away the fur and grass to reveal a nest with several small curled up furry bodies. They must have just been born, as their eyes are still tightly shut. Their mother hops around in agitation at his discovery, but he pounces on it, grabbing it by the ears. He then uses his kunai to slit its throat.

Without touching the babies, the Boy carefully dismantles the nest. Then, shoving his kunai deeper against its throat, he slathers some of the mother's blood around them in a circle. Taking a step back to admire his handiwork, the Boy hides behind a bush and lies in wait.

Soon, drawn by the scent of blood, a hungry-looking fox slinks into view. Catching sight of the litter, it perks up and bounds over to the nest.

"_Here we go," _the Boy whispers to the Voice in anticipation.

But just as the fox clamps its sharp teeth around one of the rabbits, a girl with long black hair suddenly bursts through a patch of bushes. With a yelp of surprise, the fox flees, its prize still dangling from its maw.

For a second, the girl looks in dismay down at the destroyed nest and the dead mother's body beside it.

"Why would you do something like this?" she says quietly, turning her head to look at exactly where the Boy is hiding. After a pause, the Boy shrugs and walks out of the bushes.

"What're you going to do about it?" the Boy says, cocking his head sideways. He is genuinely curious; the fact that the girl was able to approach without his hearing her implies that she has had at least some training. But the girl just gives him an appraising look, and then shakes her head.

"I'm going to take them, and take care of them," she says shortly. Kneeling besides the nest, she scoops the balls of fur into a woven basket. Before she leaves, she gives him a hard look. "If you try to come after me, I'll kill you." Silently, she disappears into the forest.

The Boy returns to the inn that evening, rather put out at the loss of his source of entertainment.

During dinner, as the pink-haired girl alternates as usual between gushing about her experiences in the city and complimenting the black-haired boy, the Boy consults the Voice.

"_Why do girls talk so much about pointless things?"_

"_It's in their nature," _the Voice growls.

"_How do you get them to stop without killing them?" _The Boy stabs his fish with his fork.

"_You ask the impossible."_

The Boy sighs and is about to shovel another spoonful of rice into his mouth when the Voice speaks up again.

"_But...there is one way to break a woman's spirit,"_ says the Voice.

"_What is it?"_ the Boy asks.

So the Voice tells him.

"_I thought you said that that was fun?" _the Boy says after a pause.

"_Only when it's voluntary," _the Voice informs him.

Three days later, the Boy is still practicing tree-climbing with the black-haired boy when the masked jōnin suddenly returns. He has a grim look on his face and is holding the pink-haired girl in his arms. She is conscious, but unresponsive; even when the black-haired boy approaches them to ask what is going on, she looks at him with dead eyes.

The masked jōnin only tells them that she was assaulted, before he disappears inside the house with her. The two boys look at each other, and follow him inside.

The girl is laid down in a futon and the masked jōnin makes tea in a kettle. Putting a cup of it beside the girl, he then tells the two boys to watch over her, and leaves with a dark look on his face. Settling down on mats, they silently keep vigil beside the girl, who mutely turns her back on them and faces the wall.

A short time later, the Boy's eyes fly open as an influx of memories suddenly rush into his mind, and he has to hold himself back from letting a gleeful grin contort his features.

In his memory's eye, he watches as several of his clones, transformed to look like nondescript scruffy young men, stalk the pink-haired girl. She is alone; they watch as she leisurely picks petals off of a flower in a small forest clearing. As soon as the last petal falls, she sighs and is about to get up, when she hears a twig snap. She freezes – and then they converge on her.

One of his clones holds the struggling girl down, while another stuffs a gag into her mouth, cutting off her screams. They kick and beat her for a while before a third clone suddenly leans over her and lowers his pants. Then, watching the wide-eyed girl as tears stream down her face, he takes her roughly. The sound of flesh slapping on flesh rings through the clearing and after several thrusts, the girl stops fighting. The tears dry on her face and she listlessly looks up at the overhanging branches.

When the clone is on the verge of finishing, he pulls out. The other clones tie her limp body against a tree while another throws a bucket of water at her, washing away some of the fluids that glisten on her skin. Leaving her drenched, they flee the scene.

"_That scroll really paid off," _says the Boy as the final memory flashes through his mind. _"Who'd have thought the Kage Bunshin could come in so handy?"_

"_Flawless clones. You covered your tracks well, mastered tree-climbing, and taught that vermin human a lesson," _the Voice praises him. _"Well done."_

The Boy flushes in pride.

After several hours, the masked jōnin returns with an unreadable look on his face and the next day, they quickly return to Konoha. The jōnin holds the girl the whole way.

Soon afterwards, while taking his turn to sit by the girl's bedside in the hospital, the bored Boy overhears the nurses talking about a bridge that was being constructed in the island nation that has been destroyed by gangsters.

That night, the Boy enjoys a bowl of ramen in his apartment and laughs at a comic he picked up at the hospital's gift shop.

* * *

**A/N: **I suppose if Naruto were to read a book, he'd be reading 'Villainy 101.'

Sorry if anything offended anyone. I did warn you he was going to be pretty morally reprehensible.

And I haven't responded to most of your reviews yet because I wanted to see reactions for this chapter first, so please have patience.


	5. Terce

**Chapter Five: Terce**

* * *

If the Boy had realized how long the girl was going to drag things out, he might have handled things differently.

The girl is discharged after a week in the hospital, and for a while, the Boy laughs silently every time she flinches whenever anyone touches her. However, the joke quickly gets old when he realizes that the chūnin exam is coming up soon: it's not that the girl has ever been really helpful on any of their missions, and he and the black-haired boy could probably handle the exam on their own – but unfortunately, only teams of three are allowed to take the exam. And the way the girl is now, it is unlikely that the jōnin will recommend their team for the exam.

After several training sessions go awry as the girl falls apart, the jōnin takes aside the two boys and talks to them privately.

"Sasuke...Naruto," the man says, his dead-fish eyes boring into them. "As the two of you know, Sakura is currently distraught. In most cases, it is important for a team to learn to overcome any obstacle together, but the current situation is extremely personal. It is regrettable, but there is a chance that she may have to abandon any hopes of becoming a ninja." He looks at the two of them, and the Boy makes sure to look suitably depressed. "For now, the two of you must be there for her, as her teammates. But at the same time, I do not want to compromise your own learning curves. You are both talented in your own ways, and I believe that you would perform well in the upcoming chūnin exam. If you are willing, I can arrange for a stand-in to act as the third member of your team in the exam."

The Boy discretely looks to the black-haired boy for a cue, but his face is blank and gives no answers.

"_Is this a trick question?"_ he muses.

"_Tread carefully," _the Voice warns him. _"Don't commit to anything just yet. What does the man want from this?"_

The Boy thinks over what he knows of the jōnin's personality.

"Is there anything we could do to help Sakura get better?" the Boy asks. The black-haired boy looks at him sharply and something flickers in the jōnin's eyes.

"What are you proposing?" the jōnin asks.

"We've come this far with Sakura...I wouldn't want to just throw her away right when she needs us the most," the Boy says in a hesitant voice.

"How about you Sasuke?" the jōnin turns to the other boy. He is silent for a solid minute before he suddenly nods.

"I feel the same way," he says, surprising the Boy.

The jōnin lets out a sigh.

"I don't think you realize what you're trying to get into here," says the jōnin, shaking his head. "While your peers take the chūnin exam and advance their careers, you will be putting all your time and effort into helping someone who might not ever get better. I know she is your friend, but you two also need to think about yourselves."

But the jōnin agrees to give them time to think over their decision, and in the meantime, training sessions proceed much in the same way as before. However, to the Boy's irritation, the girl's condition does not improve. Or rather, in fact, it gets worse: if anyone addresses the girl or accidentally brushes into her, she falls to the ground and bursts into tears.

By the time the week before the chūnin exams rolls in, the jōnin has given up on physical training for the team, and has turned to going over team tactics. This strategy seems to work, as the girl falls apart less and training sessions usually go as long as planned.

One day after such a session, instead of going straight back home as usual, the Boy makes a detour through the marketplace and picks up a box of instant ramen. On the way back home, he takes a shortcut through the village park. Whistling his favorite show's theme song and swinging his new purchase in one hand, he almost doesn't see the girl. It is only by chance that the breeze blows against his face, and he turns his face slightly to the side. When he does so, an unnatural flash of pink catches his attention.

"_Tell me. What is that human doing?"_ the Voice commands.

The girl is sitting on a bench with her head bowed, hiding her face.

"_I suppose she's still crying," _says the Boy, continuing to swing the plastic bag in a circular motion. _"Why?"_

"_Remember what I taught you about how to break a woman?" _the Voice says. The Boy nods, the memory still fresh in his mind. _"Now I am going to teach you how to bind one to you."_

"_Bind?" _the Boy repeats curiously.

The Voice tells him.

By the time the Boy approaches the girl, she has stopped crying, but her shoulders are still shaking. He silently sits down at the other side of the bench, and though she stiffens at his proximity, she doesn't move away.

"_A good sign," _the Voice encourages him.

The Boy mulls over what to say, thinking over what he knows about her.

He clears his throat.

"You know," he says. "Sasuke won't care if you're a virgin or not."

At first, she doesn't respond. She begins to sniffle again, occasionally pushing her hair out of tear-stained face. But after a few minutes, the girl finally speaks.

"That's not what I care about," she grounds out, her sentence punctuated by hiccupy gasps. "Now go away."

The Boy hides a grimace, and tries switching to a more light-hearted approach.

"Did you know? Your forehead is smaller than Ino's. I checked." The girl raises her head and looks at the Boy in disbelief. Having grabbed her attention however, he hurries to soften his approach. "Come on. Lift that head up. Tell me what's wrong?" The Boy tries to imitate the kindly reassuring tone of voice he has heard mothers use to their children. His intonation is a little off, but it seems passable to his ears.

For a long time, the girl doesn't answer, and the Boy is about to call it quits when she finally says in a quiet voice, "Everyone thinks I'm dirty now. I know it. They...look at me with these pitying eyes. My mom, my dad, Kakashi-sensei, Ino...Sasuke..."

Unable to help himself, the Boy rolls his eyes but the girl is too blinded by fresh tears to see it.

"Nobody thinks you're dirty, Sakura," he says dutifully.

"I'm dirty!" The girl suddenly screams hysterically, alarming the Boy. "I don't want to remember what happened but I dream about it every night now. My parents come into my bedroom when I'm screaming and they have so much pity in their eyes I can't stand it! But at the same time I want them to pity me...I'm disgusting."

"_You are," _the Boy agrees silently.

"No you're not."

"You don't understand...nobody understands..." The girl begins to moan pathetically and buries her face in her hands. "I don't know how to handle it. I can't."

The Boy silently counts to three.

"...when I was young, I was...special. I was kidnapped by ANBU," he says. The girl sniffles. "They took me to a secret facility and they conducted experiments on me...a lot of experiments. This here," He points out a small white scar on his inner arm that he got while trying to make ramen, "they burned me with heated metal bars to test my pain tolerance." The girl stills and her eyes widen. "And this here..." He points out several more scars on his body, making up semi-plausible stories for each.

"No way. The ANBU are here to protect us." The girl shakes her head, sending flecks of tears and snot flying. To his dismay, the Boy feels something wet splash on his face.

"O...orphans like me aren't so important to protect I guess," he says with a shrug, discretely trying to wipe his face on his sleeve. "Afterwards they tried to erase my memory, but it didn't work on me. At first, I tried telling a few people about it but nobody believed me...instead, they all called me a lying freak. So I've been keeping silent about it ever since...you're the first person I've told this to in years."

"Why me?" The girl's eyes begin to glisten.

He pauses dramatically.

"I thought you'd understand me," he says. "I thought you'd understand what it feels like to be helpless...what it feels like for other people to stare at you like you're a piece of meat and nothing else."

A lone tear slides down the girl's face and her mouth drops slightly open.

"I'm not saying I understand what you're going through right now, but I think we're pretty similar in a lot of ways. So if you feel like you're different or you don't belong or that you can't handle things. Just remember that I'm here, okay? I'll protect you until you're ready, no matter how long it takes. That's what teammates are for, right?" He gives her a small, hopefully winning smile.

It works.

The girl flushes and gawks at the Boy, who keeps eye contact for a few more seconds. Then he purposefully breaks it and gets to his feet.

"Well I have to get home now...not that anyone's waiting for me, but I do have my dinner to make."

"O-okay..."

He walks away, keeping a slow but purposeful stride. Just before he turns a corner, he hesitantly looks back and sees the girl still looking at him. Her face is pink and a glimmer of hope is beginning to flicker in her eyes. The Boy raises a hand in farewell, which the girl returns.

As soon as he turns the corner, his face twists into a wide sneering grin.

"_You were right. People are so easy to manipulate. Tell them what they want, and they'll become complete putty in your hands..."_ the Boy crows to the Voice, who just chuckles at him.

Two days later, the Boy sees the efforts of his hard labor already begin to bear fruit. The girl, though pale-faced, doesn't fall apart during training and the jōnin is so surprised that he doesn't even bother pretending to read a book like he usually does. Whenever the Boy 'accidentally' brushes the girl's hand or taps her on the shoulder, she turns as pink as her hair.

"_Her hair down there was a lighter shade though," _the Boy remarks in passing. _"Do you suppose the sun makes head hair darker?"_

"_I suppose we'll find out when you actually grow some."_

After the Boy drops some prodding hints, the girl insists to the jōnin that she doesn't want to drag the team down, and they are successfully registered for the chūnin exam.

* * *

Having let some of his expectations build up with all of the drama surrounding the events leading up to the exam, the Boy finds himself rather disappointed when he learns that the first part of the exam is literally a paper exam.

Having planted several clones disguised as generic chūnin around the exam site ahead of time, he raises his hand and asks to take a bathroom break. One of his clones 'accompanies' him to the bathroom, and once there, he creates several more clones, giving each one a specific question to find the answer to.

With that done, the Boy returns to his seat, twirling his pen to pass the time. Every time a new memory suddenly fills his mind, he jots down the answer to a question, and within twenty minutes, his exam paper is complete.

He passes the rest of the remaining exam time picking off some of the stupider genin around him by tempting them with his test paper.

"Number 23, you fail!"

"43 and 27, you fail."

"_I'm practically doing them a favor." _The Boy mockingly waves goodbye at the genin slinking out of the exam hall. _"They wouldn't last two seconds in a real fight...is this exam always this easy?"_

He doesn't expect the Voice to answer, but to his surprise, it does.

"_They haven't changed the exam since my last host took it."_

The Boy stops waving – it is the first time that the Voice has ever talked about what it did before it was sealed inside him. But when he hesitantly asks him about it, the Voice clams up and refuses to talk anymore about it.

Thankfully, the second exam promises to be more interesting, as it traps the remaining genin in the forest for several days in a test of survival and wits.

Barely five minutes after they have set foot inside the jungle of overgrown trees, they hear several agonized screams echo across the treetops.

"That...was a human scream, right?" the girl whimpers. "I'm scared." Trembling, she edges closer to the Boy, who casually brushes off her hand and steps away.

"I've gotta pee," he announces, and slinks away to a denser area of the forest.

After relieving himself, the Boy loiters around for a bit expectantly. He is not disappointed when a hand suddenly breaks through the surface of a seemingly innocuous puddle, and grabs onto his leg with an iron grip.

"_You were right. Someone was watching,"_ says the Boy, as he nimbly leaps up. For an instant, the hand's grip slackens in surprise and he takes advantage of it by bending over and slashing through the wrist with his kunai. The hand, still grasping on to his ankle, comes cleanly off. A cloud of red fogs up the puddle, and a gurgled scream bubbles up to the surface.

The rest of the body soon follows, to reveal a furious boy wearing a rebreather. Blood dripping from the stump on his arm, he hurls himself at the Boy. Easily sidestepping him, the Boy lifts a foot and kicks down the other boy.

Pinning him down to the ground with his knee, the Boy pulls the rebreather boy up by his hair and holds a kunai to the front of his neck.

"Hand over your scroll," he breathes.

"Don't have one," the rebreather boy spits out.

"Don't be like that." The Boy smiles, pressing the kunai closer. A thin line of red appears on the struggling boy's pale skin, and the Boy licks his lips. His eyes flicker to the rebreather boy's remaining hand.

"Naruto?" The pink-haired girl and the black-haired boy finally seem to have noticed their struggle and climb their way through the bushes just in time to see the Boy slash the kunai downwards at the rebreather boy's other hand.

However, the rebreather boy furiously struggles just as the kunai makes contact, and the cut is messy, spraying the Boy's face with blood. Roaring in pain, the rebreather boy flips his lower body, and kicks out at the Boy, who ducks. The rebreather boy flips through the air and lands on his feet, clutching on to his remaining hand, which dangles precariously to his arm by a few strands of skin.

The girl screams at the sight, startling the Boy, and the rebreather boy takes advantage of the opportunity to dash away.

For a second, there is stunned silence. And then –

"What were you doing?" The girl looks at the Boy in horror, and he realizes that his face is dotted with blood. The black-haired boy does not say anything, but from the way he is avoiding the Boy's gaze, he seems troubled as well.

"I was trying to pass the exam." The Boy tries to look annoyed as he raises an arm to wipe his face. "Or do you not want to pass? Were you lying when you said you wanted to help the team?"

The girl flushes as pink as her hair again.

"Of course I want to help the team! But – "

"But?" The Boy's arm drops to his side.

"But – you didn't have to do that!" The girl protests. "That – that was uncalled for!"

"You didn't even see the whole thing," the Boy says, cocking his head to the side. "What if he attacked me first and I retaliated?"

"You seem unharmed," the black-haired boy comments, and the girl mutely nods her head.

The Boy looks at her for a long moment, and then lets out a loud sigh.

"I get it," he says sadly. "You don't believe me either. You think I'm a lying freak too."

The girl gapes.

"What? That's not what I think!"

"All my life, everyone's only looked at me with eyes filled with disgust...just like yours. They think I'm weird – they think I'm sick in the head." With every biting word, the Boy takes a step toward the girl, who backs away. The whole time, she is wildly shaking her head back and forth. "You're just like the rest of them."

"No – no – " She trips over her feet and falls backward to the ground.

"You're no better than _them._"

The girl's eyes grow impossibly wide and she begins to shake uncontrollably.

"You – "

"That's enough," the black-haired boy cuts in harshly, finally stepping in. The Boy snaps his head towards the other boy, and eyes him balefully. The other boy coolly matches his gaze.

"_You still need them," _the Voice reminds him.

So after a few seconds, the Boy lets out a sharp bark of laughter, shattering the tense silence. As his laughter echoes through the trees, the girl grows still.

"I'm just kidding Sakura," he says lightly, smiling down at the shocked girl. "I know you're different from the rest."

The Boy wipes his bloody kunai on his pants, leaving a red trail behind.

* * *

**A/N: **A very conversation-filled chapter. And I know several reviewers have expressed the desire that I cut Sakura from the story but well...we'll see what happens.

I think most of you missed this but in the last chapter, the "girl" was Haku making a cameo.

I apologize for the delay. I was conflicted over the contents of this chapter (not morally, but in terms of story flow) – I actually had most of this chapter written a long time ago, but I let it stew for a while because I wasn't sure whether I liked it or not. I came back to it and I still hadn't decided, so I just decided to finish it and put it up...it was supposed to go on for a bit more but it seemed like a natural place to stop (?) so that's it for now.

Thank you to all reviewers! But please do keep in mind that the parody/horror tags are there for a reason.


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